Shane and Carmen: The Novelization Ch. 02

Chapter 2 Sense and Sensibility and Nipple Confidence

Carmen unlocked her elbows, braced herself on her forearms, slipped her buttocks off the edge of the soundboard console, and began to post slowly up and down on the face between her thighs, riding the wet tongue, talking, laughing, loving, breathing, fighting, fucking, crying, drinking, riding, winning, losing, cheating, kissing, thinking, dreaming, the whole unheard litany bouncing off the soundproof walls for the fourth or fifth time.

Question: If a tree falls in the forest while Shane McCutcheon is eating your pussy, is there anyone there to hear the moaning? Carmen lifted one leg up over Shane's shoulder, thrusting her hips forward to meet the mouth time and again, then lifting the other leg, warm velvet muscles trapping Shane's ears in soundproofed butterscotch thighmuffs, Shane kneeling on the floor and grasping the wonderful ass cheeks in her hands and pulling them forward as she licked inside Carmen's flowing pinkness, lapping the salsa bechamel caliente as fast as Carmen could simmer it, Shane tickling the pee hole, licking the liquid walls left and right, then rising up to encompass the entire clit and hood structure, sucking it in and lashing it, sensing the quiver in Carmen's bottom and drawing enthusiastic cum out from wherever it lived, licking elixir and pulling it sweetly into her mouth as Carmen's head shot back and she climaxed, Shane's face awash in juice, Carmen keening and crying, tears running down her cheeks, and then silent now and beyond cursing or begging, eyes clenched shut, long shuddering moments, the trembling stylus on the seismograph inside her clit sweeping arcs of Richter, rising, 6.7, 7.1, 7.3, 7.6 and holding, peaking, then dying away, dying, dying, "the little death," they called it, now the aftershocks and temblors, Carmen nearly unconscious as Shane drank deeply and supported this lovely girl's bottom, using her shoulders now to heft Carmen back up onto the console. Shane dropped her right hand to her own pants, plunged her hand down deep inside, slipped long fingers underneath her wet, purple Fruit of the Looms, found her clit, and in a few seconds brought herself off, her face pressed against Carmen's thighs, her breath coming fast and air-drying Carmen's tender slot.

"Oh, Jesus," Carmen prayed, an amazing grace. She looked down, saw Shane still between her legs, out of breath and recovering from her own orgasm. She reached a hand out, hit a button, and made the music stop. She cradled Shane's head in her hands while she slipped down from the console, dropped to her knees and put her arms around Shane, feeling Shane's arms enfold her, too, embracing each other huddled on the floor, resting and letting their heartbeats return to something like normal. Carmen nuzzled her face into the hollow of Shane's neck, and kissed her throat. "I'd like to return the favor and do you," she whispered.

"Thanks," Shane managed to whisper back, "but I came, too."

"I know," Carmen said, "but not like I did. And I didn't get to taste you. I want to go down on you, but we have to get dressed, people are going to be looking for us."

"Fuck 'em," Shane said.

Carmen giggled. "I don't want to fuck 'em, I want to fuck you, but we need these jobs. At least I do."

"Like I said, I like a girl with ambition," Shane said, and then found Carmen's mouth kissing hers.

"Tonight," Carmen said, post-kiss. "After work. We need to finish this. Do you have plans?"

"Uh, no, no plans. But I'll probably be hanging out at a club called Milk."

"Sure, I know it," Carmen said. "Okay. Great. Where'd you put my skirt and panties?"

They found them and Carmen sat on the floor and slid her panties on and then shakily rose to her feet to pull her skirt on. Shane discovered she didn't have very much to do to re-assemble herself, and anyway she was enjoying the view immensely, watching Carmen's flower box disappear underneath her panties and then her skirt. Shane had seen one hell of a lot of pussy, but none finer looking than the one she had just munched.

Carmen looked at her and giggled.

"What?" Shane asked.

Carmen put her hand softly to Shane's cheek and drew her forward for a brief kiss on the lips. "You have to wash your face," she said. "You have me all over your cheeks. C'mon, there's a ladies room right down the hall. I hope we can sneak in there before anyone sees us."

She took Shane by the hand and pulled her from the room and down the corridor to the bathroom. There were four stalls in it and two sinks, and someone was in one of the stalls, so they couldn't talk. Shane and Carmen stood next to each other washing their faces and doing their hair in silence, which in Shane's case consisted of fifteen seconds of random fussing. Mostly they looked in the big mirror at each other. Shane's "just fucked look" looked like she'd just woken up from a nap. Carmen's "just fucked look" was mesmerizing. Her face glowed, she couldn't stop grinning, and her eyes sparkled. She looked at Shane in the mirror and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir in her head was singing the Quiero, quiero song like it was Handel's Messiah.

In the corridor outside the bathroom they looked each way to make sure they were alone, and Carmen stepped in to Shane and quickly kissed her on the lips again. "I gotta run, I got a lot of stuff to do. Can you find your way okay?"

Shane nodded.

"Okay, bye, I'll see you tonight," Carmen said, and then she was gone, hurrying down the corridor.

Shane had entered one of those periods where she became inarticulate because of all the noise in her head, all the confusion and feelings and desires and fears drowning them out. Her heart was still beating fast, though, and as she watched Carmen's lovely bottom disappear again around a corner, Shane knew she was in jeopardy with this girl. Really deep jeopardy. Alex, I'll take infatuated for $1,000.

***

Shane found her way down the corridors to the set where Arianna Huffington was still taping her discussion with somebody. Shane plunged her hands in her pants pockets and slouched against a wall, watching the taping and trying to look like she'd been there for the past hour. The woman with the clipboard Shane had talked to earlier was standing next to the director, and when the taping wrapped up she turned and saw Shane.

"Where were you? We were looking for you."

"I went to get something to eat," Shane said, truthfully.

"Well, you got lucky," Clipboard Woman said, while Shane thought, lady, you have no idea. "Arianna said her hair was fine and we didn't need you after all. But you have to learn to stick around for these kinds of things, because you'll never know when somebody will need some touching up."

"I'll remember next time," Shane said

"Good," the woman said. "Come on, walk with me to the HR department and we'll get your paycheck. So: what was the special in the commissary today?"

"I had the Mexican," Shane said.

"How was it?"

"Really good."

"I have to watch that spicy stuff, it repeats on me," the woman said.

"I know what you mean," Shane said, "but I usually don't have that problem."

***

Carmen had been hanging around the bar at Milk for nearly an hour, and still no Shane. She had danced a couple of times but without much enthusiasm, and chatted briefly with the DJ, whom she knew slightly. Carmen was a DJ herself, and had often bid on the same job against the woman up front spinning the discs. She wasn't bad, but Carmen was better, because, well, Carmen was Carmen, that's all. Not just the looks, not just the bod, not just the technical ability, throw in the enthusiasm, the bright, happy personality. No one could teach it, you either had it or you didn't. Carmen owned the franchise. She sat at the bar, ordered a Dos Equis, and nursed her longing.

Tonight Carmen was going to get some pussy. Tonight Carmen knew she was gonna get her turn, would find herself on Shane's bed, wherever Shane lived, kissing Shane's tummy and pulling Shane's jeans down to her ankles, and then spreading those long, trim legs and paying Shane back for the wonderful nooner. It was all Carmen could think about all afternoon, visualizing how the payback was gonna go, the slow kissing, the slow licking, the slow unbuttoning as Carmen began to rock Shane's world. And it wasn't just fucking; Carmen liked this one. A lot. Shane was kind of ... mysterious, in a cool, intriguing way. Didn't seem to talk much, but knew what she wanted. Carmen really dug Shane's androgyny look, wondered what that was all about, not her usual cup of tea, but somehow Shane had made it work, made herself feminine inside that dykey butch shell. Boi, that's what Shane was, a boi. Carmen had had a boi once or twice before, but this boi seemed different. This boi made Carmen's little heart go pitter-patter. Carmen got laid regularly, but she hadn't had any cardio in quite a while. Maybe it was time. Maybe this one was pitter-patter potential.

Then Carmen saw Shane across the room talking to some girl. Shane didn't seem especially interested in the girl, it looked like casual talk, some acquaintance, and after a few minutes Shane looked around and found Carmen at the bar across the room. When their eyes met Carmen's face lit up and she smiled that killer smile. Shane nodded back, and smiled too. Just then the girl talking to Shane moved in close and whispered something in Shane's ear, not the weather report, and Shane's attention shifted away from Carmen. Worse, Shane made no move to come over.

Confusion battled with distress battled with anger inside Carmen. What kind of mind-fuck game was this? What's she doing? Weren't we going to meet? Wasn't this going to be the Great Orgasm Party Part Two: Carmen Eats Shane? Why is she letting some scuzzy-ass teenager suck on her neck?

Carmen took a sip of her Dos Equis and sat at the bar, simmering. Okay, enough of this shit. Have to play it cool, no big drama scene. But this has got to stop. She got up and made her way through the crowd to where Shane and the girl stood. Shane saw Carmen coming. She made no move to disengage from the girl, who was kissing her cheek.

"Hey," Carmen said.

"How ya doin'?" Shane replied.

Carmen felt off balance. She felt hurt. "Um, to tell you the truth, not ... not too good." She forced a sardonic laugh. "Yeah."

The girl kissing Shane ignored everything, and kissed Shane's cheek again. Shane made no response to the girl, but after a moment said to Carmen, "Look, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Just tell me what's going on."

"I just wanted to have a good time tonight. I didn't think I'd see you."

Carmen tried to process that, because it didn't make a lot of sense. And the girl was all over Shane now.

"Okay. But. Here I am. You don't think that you could've changed your plan a little bit?"

"I don't have a plan. That's the point," Shane said.

Carmen had no idea what all this was about, but she knew something was awfully wrong. It wasn't supposed to go this way. Not even close. Had she done something? Why had Shane had a change of heart? Carmen had been rejected before, but never in this way, and she didn't know how to deal with it. She knew tonight was over, though, and there was no sense standing here on the edge of the dance floor feeling your world slip away and being humiliated like this. Carmen raised her beer bottle to Shane in a brief goodbye salute, and walked away.

Shane let the girl take her face, kiss her, slip her hand around Shane's waist. But she watched Carmen go. She felt relieved there was no big drama scene, but she also felt like shit. When Carmen had frowned, Shane could see the hurt on her face. It made Shane want to take Carmen in her arms and make the hurt go away. And Christ, that would have been dangerous. The hurt would have transferred from Carmen to Shane. Shane knew about hurt, and she didn't want any more of it. Shane shifted her mind into that place where she didn't have to think or feel. She let the girl kiss her and kiss her, and even drag Shane off to the bathroom, taking Shane into the end stall with her, pulling up her dress and putting Shane's fingers in her pussy, letting Shane finger-bang her until she came, never noticing that Shane simply didn't care.

* **

Carmen's mother Mercedes and Anna, Carmen's older sister, were watching television in the small living room of their house when Carmen came in and walked past them on her way to her room.

"You're home early," Mercedes said in Spanish.

"I'm tired, I don't feel good," Carmen said. "Goodnight." She went upstairs to the front bedroom, her room.

"Starting her period," Anna said. Mercedes nodded.

Carmen stripped down, put on an old T-shirt, and climbed into bed. She lay on her back, one hand lightly touching a nipple, the other cupping her mound, but there was no fire there. She turned on her side and wrapped her arms around a pillow, spooning herself into it, letting the pillow whisper words of comfort as she cried herself to sleep.

***

On Friday, Carmen had a major gig doing production assistant work on a Robert Morfitt music video for a Canadian indie girl group called The Organ, who had a good underground reputation as an interesting band. The Organ had no American record label and were struggling to break into the big time. The video was being filmed in a church that had been rented out for three days. The church was large and modern, but built in a faux Spanish mission style, with a high ceiling and white stucco walls. On the first day Carmen had helped the work crew while several church officials removed everything from the alter area, which was being used as the main stage for the band. The girls in the band arrived after lunch, and they spent the rest of the day setting up, doing sound checks, and going over the script with Morfitt and the other production people. During the breaks one of the guitar players had noticed Carmen and had struck up a flirtation with her. And who knows, something interesting might have come from it, except that the group's lead singer, Katie Sketch, looked and dressed a lot like Shane, and Carmen frequently had images and memories of Shane and Shane's boorish, rude, contrary behavior in her mind to distract her. Still, the guitarist kept trying, and Carmen didn't want to be rude herself. And what the hell, the girl was cute and interesting.

On the second day The Organ began filming the video of their song, Brother. The entire church was filled with video equipment, lights, sound, script people, technicians, the works. Carmen was in the thick of it, wearing a headset plugged into a walkie-talkie at her belt. Late in the morning just before lunch she was threading her way through the lights and camera set-ups near the back of the church when she suddenly came upon Shane leaning against a church pillar watching all the activity. She watched Carmen, admired the way the girl worked hard, talking on her headset, bright, cheery, crisp, authoritative. Carmen gave off the aura of someone who loved her job, and knew what she was doing.

Somewhere a bullhorn blared out, "And cut. Back to first positions, please."

Startled, Carmen blurted out "Oh, God!" when she saw Shane right in front of her. "How long have you been here?" She laughed nervously. She had decided she'd probably never run into Shane again.

"Just a few minutes. I saw that sexy guitar player hitting on you."

"Yeah," Carmen nodded. Um...what was all this about? What was this crazy boi up to now? She leaned over to a pew and picked up a clipboard sitting there.

"Listen, I hope you don't mind, I called your house and your mom told me where you were," Shane said.

"Oh, no, no, I don't mind." Carmen said. She had to take the clipboard to the back of the set. "Come with me?" She walked down the side aisle toward the altar, Shane following and talking, "Yeah. Well, also, I wanted... to apologize. About the other night. I was an asshole."

Carmen turned and looked at Shane. Then she handed the clipboard to a sound man, and took Shane by the sleeve down a corridor to a small dressing room where the choir hung their robes and changed into them. Carmen's mind raced, trying to figure out how to play it.

"That's okay, you know, you don't want to get involved with anybody, and that's cool," she said without much conviction.

"I'm glad it's cool with you," Shane said, not quite picking up that it really wasn't cool at all.

"It's totally cool," Carmen said.

Shane sensed the thing wasn't going like she'd planned. Something was slipping away. Carmen was saying one thing and meaning its opposite. There was noise buzzing in Shane's brain, partly because Carmen looked so edible, and Shane knew she'd fucked up majorly. Apologizing was never her strong suit, and oh, fuck, this wasn't going well at all.

"Well, uh. Um. It doesn't mean --"

Somewhere in the church music started blaring over the speakers and a voice yelled "Action!"

Shane had to raise her voice to be heard. "-- we can't fuck."

Carmen stared at Shane. What? What did she just say? How fucking romantic. Then Carmen had a flash of insight: This idiot girl simply didn't know how to do this kind of thing.

"You ... want to fuck me?"

Carmen looked into Shane's eyes and liked what she saw there, helplessness mixed with desire. A split second later Shane was kissing her, really kissing, her lips hungry and saying what inept words could not. Shane put her arms around Carmen as Carmen returned the kiss, the headset sliding off her head onto her shoulder, Shane's hands slipping down to grasp Carmen's ass as Carmen's lips slipped down to Shane's throat, licking.

Suddenly Carmen's walkie-talkie crackled to life as a voice on it asked, "Carmen?"

"Oh, fuck," Carmen breathed. She pulled away from Shane and struggled to put her headset back on.

"Ignore it," Shane murmured in her ear, kissing it and taking the earlobe gently between her teeth.

"What's your twenty?" came over the walkie-talkie.

"I, I can't," Carmen whispered, giggling with pleasure at Shane's attack.

"Carmen!" the voice in the headset insisted, raising his voice.

"Uh, yeah, go for Carmen," Carmen said into the mouthpiece as Shane bit her neck.

"I need a fresh battery, ASAP," the voice said urgently. "Carmen?"

"No, no, no, wait," Carmen whispered to Shane before triggering the walkie-talkie to speak. "Okay, yeah, right away," she told the voice.

Shane kissed her on the mouth, tongue invading, licking along Carmen's teeth. She pulled Carmen in to her groin, one hand sliding up Carmen's side to cup her breast just as Carmen broke away, panting.

"What are you doing later?" Shane asked.

Yes! Carmen, thought, then an instant later, No! "Oh, God, I have to go over to my grandmother's, I can't let her down."

"No problem," Shane whispered, although Carmen could tell she didn't mean it. And Carmen really wanted to see Shane again; there was a lot of unfinished business.

"Um... I could come over to your place late."

"No ... no, my roommate's are gonna be there," Shane said, "and I just moved in with her three days ago."

"Well, uh, what about tomorrow?"

"No, tomorrow I'm getting a lap dance."

"Huh?"

"No, I mean, I'm not getting it for me, I'm getting it for somebody else."

"Well, I could do a lap dance for you," Carmen said, leaning in to brush her lips along Shane's cheek. Shane laughed, her head filled with noise and the thought of Carmen, almost naked, dancing in front of her and removing her bra, undulating and swinging those hips. Shane wanted another go-round with those hips.

"Yeah, I'd like that. But it's for my friend. She just, uh, she got out of this relationship."

"Mmm," Carmen said, "yeah, those relationships, they can really fuck you up."